


Desperate Desires

by ConstableGrump



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: BDSM, Desperation, F/M, Master/Slave, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 20:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19070167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstableGrump/pseuds/ConstableGrump
Summary: Terok Nor in the mirror universe is a living hell for the Terran slaves, especially those in ore processing. A demanding overseeing shapshifter works the Terrans to the bone. One Terran, named Arissa is desperate to get out of the ore processing. Convincing herself she would do anything to leave her current hell, does she accidentally work her way into another? Arissa's plan is to seduce the shapeshifter into taking her on as his private entertainment, but she doesn't realize what that entails. Story is told from Arissa's first-person view.





	Desperate Desires

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a work in progress. My first attempt at seriously trying to write fan fiction after years of reading it. Thanks for checking it out. Let me know if you have any suggestions. Also this is my first time writing from first person in writing so let me know if it works.
> 
> Disclaimer: Star Trek and all its characters etc. are owned by CBS/Paramount/Viacom. Just borrowing them for a bit of fun. ;)

    I awoke stiff and in pain from sleeping on the hard metal floor. Feeling exhausted end after sleeping for...how long has it been? Looking around I couldn’t see an timepiece in sight. Groaning I pushed up against the bulkhead with my calloused hands. There had been a time when my hand hand been smooth, a time when I got a decent night's sleep, enough food; those days seemed almost like a dream at this point. So long ago, where they even real?  
    Others waking slowly around me began to also pull their weak selves up. Might as well, he would be here soon. We would be back to tolling hard in the ore-processing facilities of Terok Nor under his strict, cold command. I shuddered at the thought, being so tired and weakened from lack of food I would have preferred to just sleep even if it was on the sheet metal flooring of the outer hallway of ore-processing.  
    Walking out into the darkly lit room, dirtied by the numerous amounts of uridium had come through here. Freshly filled carts with unrefined uridium filled the main chamber of ore-processing. Another days work. How many people would make it through today? This week five people had perished from being overworked; two just yesterday.  
    Sweat started to pour down my face already from the high temperature. Eyes watering from the dust in the air. Then I heard it. Him.  
    A cold, harsh and gravelly voice filled the air over the sounds of the processing machines. In the doorway stood the Supervisor, the overseer of the ore-processing. A rare species that could shapeshift into any form. Apparently in natural state, when not standing before them as a humanoid he was a gelatinous liquid.  
    He walked to the railing on the platform looking down at the newly woken shift of workers. His long, lean fingers wrapped firmly and tightly around the metal bar of the railing. Deep small piercing icy blue eyes glared hard at them from an abnormally smooth and featureless face.  
     “Do I need to repeat myself?” he mockingly asked. “ _GET TO WORK_!”  
    I glanced away and began pushing the heavy cart in front of me. Aching all over made it even more difficult to manage the task. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him glaring at us like some Vorian pterodactyl watching its prey. So strange to see someone not sweat in these horrid conditions.

    Trudging through the day half awake and given mere scraps for food I couldn’t tell how much longer I could deal with this. Having been on Terok Nor for the past three years since I removed from Bajor at age 20. Working in the processing plant is the only thing I’ve really done in this hell of station. I would do anything to get out of here and do something else.  
    The long shift ended and I dragged myself to spot to rest. I watched the Supervisor walking about, eyeing the workers starting the next shift. A strange and utterly preposterous idea came to mind; what if this overseer was my ticket out of here? I shook my head of the thought. How could he be? I’m not sure if I could persuade him by any means to help me. A Cardassian, yes. I had a better chance. Even a Bajoran. They always found it in their hearts ---and groins--- to let some female companionship into their quarters, but I doubted this shapeshifter worked the same way. I shuddered at the idea of being someone’s sexual toy, but at least they lived better than us in ore-processing. They got to wear decent clothing, sleep in a bed and got proper rations.  
    Rolling over to face the wall I attempted wiped the thought from my head. I was grasping at straws; anything would be better than this, but dreaming would only make things more painful. Better to just accept what was happening and maybe it would be over soon. Perhaps I might be one of the casualties of this slave pit. I giggled to myself at the morbid thought. Closing my eyes I drifted into sleep easily despite sleeping on sheet metal.


End file.
